Follow The Format
by clichedisaster
Summary: What happens after ep 2 of season 2 in Prison Break? Here's my take on Lincoln, Michael and L.J's story. Please R&R.
1. Case Notes

**Case Notes.**

Merci bien de le lire et faire la critique si vous faites! _Thank you so much for reading this and reviewing if you do!_

Let me just say this before anything else – **I do not own Prison Break or anything to do with it!** If I did would I be writing fanfics about it? And besides, we all know I'm not clever enough to think up all the intricate plans and tattoos and everything. That shit is _amazing_. Seriously, how do they come up with that stuff? It's so imaginative and intelligent and cool! I respect the real people who own it deeply for being able to make that stuff up.

Sooooooo – this story takes place after Season 2 Ep 2, when L.J is sent off to a detention center in Arizona somewhere after Lincoln and Michael try to get him out of the courthouse. This is about Lincoln and Michael, as they try to get him back. It's also about L.J and his time in the detention center, and what happens to him. If you're really good I might give you little spoilers now and then that might mean something in the next chapters or even what happens at the end of this story. Heh.

So now, I want to thank the people who review this story. Thank you to darkdestiney2000, CJ Sutton, RBDFAN, jul, cmtaylor531 and TheRavynFire. Everyone seems to like L.J, which is great! Marshall Allman is actually 20-something.. that surprised me. And he's married! He looks so much younger and like it'd be illegal for him to marry. Hehe.

Anyway, please enjoy the story! It's only for fun and because I'm such a big fan of Prison Break. It's the best show ever!

xox

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	2. I Just Want My Son Back

**I Just Want My Son Back.  
**

Velvet darkness fell upon the little lake house in the middle of nowhere. The water rippled peacefully next to the darkened ground and lit up as soon as the moon struck its surface. The whole scene looked like it was from a fairytale; although this one normally ended in tragedy instead of triumph.

Michael was sitting hunched over a table in the corner of the lounge, while Lincoln was stretched out on a couch nearby. Underneath Michaels graffitied arm lay a large map, dotted with red ink to symbolise their next hideouts, and the trail they would have to follow for everything to go right. Only a dim light gave off a sense of visibility as his eyes scanned the creased paper, holding a red marker in his hand if he found a new location.

"Where are we going after this? I want to get L.J back, Michael." Lincoln's deep voice was filled with worry. In his hands was a newspaper article about his son, L.J, being arrested for murdering his own mother, and attempted murder for shooting the man who was the one who actually killed her. Lincoln's eyes continued to graze back and fourth, reading the words over and over again in his mind, blaming himself for giving off a bad influence to his son who he cared a lot about.

"I don't know. That's what I'm trying to work out. We may have to leave L.J right now. He'll only hold us back, no matter how much we try to get it to work." Michael's eyes were glazed over with pure determination and concentration. It killed him to say they should leave his nephew behind, but to him it was the only option. "Anyway, we might have to spend our next couple of days here. The police will be too tied up with the others to know exactly where we are." He sat the pen carefully down on the table. He folded up the map then slipped it under the phone. He didn't know why he usually hid the map, but it made him feel safe; like no one could find it and foil his plan.

"My son is arrested for murder, Michael. I can't let him suffer for something he didn't do like me." He pushed himself off the couch and into a sitting position. His eyes had been lifted from the article and had fallen on Michael who was tidying up. His voice was almost shaking from the fear and love he felt for the most precious thing in his life – his son.

"I know, I know. I want to get him back too, Lincoln, but I can't. If we go back we risk getting caught and thrown back into Fox River. Once everything calms down we can go." His eyes never caught contact with Lincoln's as he put the table to perfection again, and then made his way into the open kitchen that was joined onto the lounge. He walked to the fridge and opened it. He looked in every corner of it then pulled out a carton of orange juice.

"Calms down?" Lincoln's voice was now full of anger. He jumped off the sofa and walked over to Michael. His eyes pierced him as he tried to get his attention. Michael usually ignored him when he felt like he was doing the wrong thing or encouraging Lincoln to hate him, so Lincoln knew he felt guilty and felt the need to make him feel even guiltier in order to get his son back. "L.J is in _prison_ because of me, and Veronica is _dead _for the same reason. It's not an acne outbreak! It'll never calm down!"

Michael finally made eye contact with him as he finished the carton of orange with one, simple slurp. He pushed by Lincoln to place it in the bin. He turned around and looked at him straight in the eye. "Two months ago we were both holed up in a prison, awaiting your death with only hope to hold onto. Now look at us, we're free and out in the real world. Things will get better, Lincoln. You just have to have a little faith."

Lincoln's mind flashed back to a time when everything was to be going down hill and not even he felt like it was going to be alright.

_Younger Michael and Lincoln stood facing the sea on the edge of a city landscape. They wore immaculate black and white suits and their hair stood perfect. They had just been to their parent's funeral._

"_What if something happens to you?" Little Michael glanced up at his taller brother, worried and confused._

_Lincoln looked down at him, "You just have to have a little faith."_

Now he seemed to be the one worried and confused. In Fox River, Michael acted like the big brother, and he still was to some extent.

"I just want my son back." Lincoln's voice was now coarse from the tears he was trying to choke back. Although he had tried to act tough, he had snapped. The love of his life had been shot whilst on the phone to him, he could hear her dying, he could hear her last breath. Now his son, who he loved more than anything in this world, had been sent to jail the minute he got out himself, and had been given such a bad start to life that Lincoln began blaming himself. Michael was his only hope, but now even _he_ seemed to not care.

Michael didn't answer. His words had escaped him, and the remaining ones had buried them deep in his mind somewhere. He just looked at him then glanced down at his feet to help himself feel less guilty. He took a deep breath in as a painful silence gathered between them, making it harder for words. The only noise filling the room was the ticking clock which had been there for years.

Lincoln decided to break the silence. The anger building up inside of him had built up so far it knocked the words out of his mouth. "We'll talk about this at another time then." His eyes trailed along the ground as he brushed by Michael. He walked to his bedroom door then swung it open with one swift motion, leaving Michael all alone with the thousands of options running through his mind.

"_You just have to have a little faith.."_


	3. You Like A Little Fun, Fish?

**You Like A Little Fun, Fish?**

L.J stepped out from the police van in Kingman, Arizona. Before him was the center where he would be spending most of his time for attempted murder and a set up involving the murder of his own mother. A police officer, with the name Scott printed onto a small name-tag under a police badge, took his arm and pulled him in through the front door.

The front office was huge. Lining the walls were baskets of flowers. It didn't look like a bad place, but L.J knew it was. Also in the front office, was a little table in the corner, where Scott pulled L.J over to.

"Okay, L.J, sign this." A long sheet of paper sat perfectly on the table as Scott stood over L.J. The words looked like they had tangled together as L.J tried to read it quickly. "Hurry up and sign it!"

"What is this?" L.J said to himself as his eyes scanned back and forth, the words almost appeared lines drawn with a light pencil. He _had_ to know what he was signing. What if it was something against his dad that could get him killed?

"Just sign it and I'll tell you afterwards." Scott tried to hurry him. His voice was growing angry. L.J could tell that the giant man stood above him was probably going to be the one he had to be escorted by, and that very thought scared him.

"But what if it's something I don't want to sign?" He gulped as he spoke. His words had let themselves escape his mouth before he could think.

"Look, just sign it! Nothing worse than the position you're already in can happen!" L.J thought for a moment then began singing the paper at the very bottom. Once his pen had stopped moving on the page, Scott slipped it from beneath him then handed it into the woman at the front desk. She looked at L.J then filed it away.

Scott grabbed L.J once more and took him through the many halls that led to his high security room. Inside were two other boys, who gave him dirty looks the minute he stepped inside the little room. Scott practically threw him in; un-cuffed him, locked the door, and left him.

"Looks like we got ourselves fresh blood, huh?" One of the boys spoke to the other while eyeing him up and down, checking him out for possible later use. His voice sounded Texan. He wore the same overalls as L.J, except he had a hat on his head that barely had a purpose. He climbed off the top bunk of his bed and looked him in the eye. "Maybe we could find a little use for you."

"Yeah, yeah – I can see it now. You like a little fun, Fish?" The other got up from sitting on the bottom bunk. He looked a little older than the other, a little scarier. L.J just looked at him then nodded shyly, making his way over to the spare bed in the corner.

"Aw, the boy ain't answering our question, Dirt." The Texan boy climbed back onto his top bunk. He lay down, his arm behind his head. He took a deep breath in. "So what you here for?"

L.J looked at him, then at the floor. He felt so uncomfortable, so vulnerable. He trailed his eyes to the other boy who was staring at him. "I.. uh.. I nearly killed someone, and.. uh.. supposedly killed my mom, and my dad tried to get me out of the courthouse, so I ended up here."

"Looks like we got ourselves a hard ass then. So your dad – is he a hard ass too?" The boy who was staring at him began talking. L.J felt even more uncomfortable as he felt his eyes pierce him with curiosity.

"Lincoln Burrows is my dad." L.J looked at him, feeling proud to call _that _man his dad. That very man was probably one of the most infamous men still alive. He thought it may scare them off of him a little, maybe give him a little space. His eyes fell to the ground again as the boy still standing, probably named Dirt as the other said earlier, looked up at the other boy who was lying on the bed, and high-fived him.

"There's hope for us yet, Tex!" Dirt sounded excited. L.J felt good at that point, but he didn't know why. Maybe because he'd given some desperate boys some hope, or maybe because of the reaction he got after saying his dad's name.

Dirt grinned as he let go of Tex's hand then put his hand out for L.J. L.J took hold of it and shook it slightly. Dirt laughed lightly then pulled L.J up, then patted his back. He let go and L.J fell back onto the bed gently. Tex just lay there on his top bunk, probably trying to keep calm to hold up his cool-dude existence.

"I'm Dirt, and this asshole up here's Tex." He pointed to himself then up to Tex who flung his hand back lazily to almost wave. "So what's you name then, Fish?" He looked at L.J, his grin still spread across his face.

"L.J. My name's L.J." L.J kept looking up and down, unsure of where he could look that wouldn't make him seem weird or perverted in any way. He pushed himself back so he was leaning against the wall behind him, then brought his knees up to his chin and leaned his head on them.

"Lincoln Junior, right? We heard about you on the news. Killing your mom and some other sick shit, then your dad was on death row, but escaped thanks to your uncle. Man, you're family are awesome. They ever coming back to, y'know, save you?" Dirt sat back down on his bed, still hyper at the mere thought of having the son of _Lincoln Burrows _in his cell.

"I don't know. I doubt it. He doesn't know where I am." He rested his forehead on his knees then sighed. A thousand thoughts were running through his mind. He couldn't place anything. Everything was so unreal. Hopefully his dad did know. Maybe he did. Maybe Michael could get him out. All he had to do was hope for the best..


	4. You Have A Plan?

**You Have A Plan?  
**

The sun was beaming high above the photograph-like, idealic scene. It burst through all windows of the small house that sat in the middle of it all, and woke up Michael Scofield from his deep sleep.

His eyes opened in a single heartbeat. He bent himself up into a sitting position then ran his sight along the wall and to the door. He pushed his hands down to get off the bed then cautiously walked towards the door, like the world had came crashing down outside the haven that was his room. His hand grasped the door handle and opened it slowly, only to reveal Lincoln sitting by the table with the map spread out and a red marker in his hand.

"What are you doing?" Michael asked him while rubbing his eyes. He walked towards the fridge for a drink, not taking his vision off of Lincoln who was acting a little too suspiciously.

Lincoln's hand darted down onto the map and made a large, red circle. He was in a state of concentration, and only managed to catch a couple of words from what Michael had said. "I'm doing what you chose not to do." He answered the question which he thought he had heard, which actually turned out right.

Michael took a carton of milk from the refridgerator and poured it into a glass from one of the overhead cabinets. He sipped at it while staring at the fully dressed Lincoln, compared to him who was only wearing his boxer-shorts. "I didn't choose not to do it. I chose to postpone it. We tried it before. He's probably ten times more secure than he was then."

"Well unfortunately that won't do. I have a plan for us. We can do this." Lincoln's voice was growing excited. The plan was continuously flowing through his mind, along with a string of thoughts which made him believe it would work.

"And what is this plan?" Michael finished the glass quickly. He walked over to the sink and dropped it in then made his way out of the kitchen. He fell onto the sofa lazily, his early morning exhaustion still hung over him.

"I've marked out a detention center in Arizona. He may have been sent there. If we make it even close by, we can survey the area and then make up something to help us get my son back." The state of concentration had been broken as he folded the map back up again. He slipped it under the phone, which was soon becoming the map's very own hideaway, then turned the chair around to face Michael. "It _has _to work."

"You say 'may'. In a situation like this, we don't use the word 'may'." His eyes met with his as he sifted through the plans he had in his head. "Anyway, last night I thought about what you said and I have a plan of my own."

Lincoln's eyes lit up with hope. Michael loved seeing that very expression, so it lit his face up too. "You have a plan? What is it?" Lincoln asked with a hint of desperation in his voice. He needed his son back. He needed to hear him speak again. He needed to tell him he loved him. He needed to see the expression on his face once he said those words.

_Lincoln hugged a tiny L.J, who was around 9 or 10 at the time. L.J's face was full of innocence as he wrapped his little arms around his father's neck._

"_I love you." Lincoln whispered in his ear. His face lit up, a smile graced his face as the world around him fell to his side and left just him and his dad. The love between them was so strong. Both of them never wanted to let go. Lincoln wished time would stop. He wanted to hold onto time and make sure it never moved. He wanted his son to stay that innocent, that fresh._

_L.J quietly whispered into his dad's ear with meaning and admiration, "I love you so much dad."_

Michael could sense the desperation so quickly started explaining. He got off the couch and walked over to the map. Unfolding it, he got the red marker out once more. "We take the time out to work out where L.J is. Once we find out, we get close, we stalk. We take in all the surroundings, the thickness of the walls, the pipes below – everything. If it's somewhere nearby, I'll probably have the blueprints-"

"Probably?" Lincoln interrupted. He was shocked by his brother's words, but remembered it was to get his son back, so the probably's didn't really matter. He cared so much about this working, so he would do anything to make sure it did.

Michael looked at him, "If I don't have the blueprints then we're going to have to send someone in. They won't take us, obviously, so maybe we should disguise ourselves. I'll think about it nearer the time. Maybe we could find someone to do it for us. I don't know."

"Who would disguise themselves to help someone break out of a prison?" Lincoln wanted to ask every question under the sun. Surety was a hard thing for him by that point; he had been set up by the government, his son was doing drugs and becoming more and more like his dad at that age, and the love of his entire life had been shot and killed, all because of his own actions.

"Well, we're going to have to have to find someone who doesn't know it's us, and who's willing to put themselves at risk." Michael's eyes met with his. He could tell how desperate Lincoln was becoming. He only wanted to look out for his brother, but sometimes it was harder than he thought. Sometimes he had to take the position of the younger brother, just like years ago when he was the vulnerable little boy.

Lincoln tried to smile as his eyes fell to the ground. He knew that the plan Michael had come up with was better than nothing. If he did have the blueprints, which he probably did, then he would see his little boy again. The thought of seeing his smile one more time made him determined.

"_I love you so much dad.."_


	5. You lasted More Than The Rest

**You Lasted More Than The Rest. **

L.J sat in the dinner hall of his new home. Everything was clean, almost perfect, but it wasn't. To him this was his punishment for being Lincoln Burrow's kid. He knew it wasn't, but deep down it felt like it was. Maybe he was just angry of his past and felt the need to blame the man he loved most in the world, or maybe he was just going through that hate-towards-parents stage. Whichever one it was, it battled with his good boy thoughts and usually won.

In front of him was his dinner. "_Mashed potatoes and mushy peas. Oh joy._" He thought to himself as he lazily picked up a spoon and delved it into the white mush that was supposedly potatoes. He pulled the spoon out and looked bluntly at the mess on his spoon. "_This is meant to be healthy?_" He slipped the spoon in his mouth then tried to look like he was enjoying it. It would take a long time for him to get used to this.

As he swallowed, the two boys from earlier walked over and sat down on the two spare chairs. They looked at him without saying a word. L.J smiled then put his spoon down on the table. For a moment everything paused. None of them moved. L.J felt awkward, and before he knew it words escaped his mouth. "What? Why are you staring at me?"

"Well, Fish, we have to clue you up now 'cause you're new." Tex looked at him. His eyes trailed from the spoon in L.J's hand to the expression that graced his face. The other boy ate his food almost the instant it hit the table. He stuffed his face with everything before taking a long swallow.

L.J gave a look back then glanced back down at his dinner. His eyes scanned the room then fell back upon the plate in front of him. His eyes could rest from the awkwardness whenever he looked at his plate. He sat the spoon down, "What is there to tell me?"

"That guy over there," Tex whispered as he pointed over to a large boy standing beside a vending machine. He looked scary, with giant fists and an angry face, "that guy over there is your worst nightmare. Avoid him. At all costs. Seriously, he could break your jaw with his pinkie."

"And? It's not like I would've went near him anyway. He looks _extremely_ violent, like he just beat up Vin Diesel." L.J stared at Tex. He wanted to be alone, without anyone there to make him feel scared – all for a crime he didn't even commit.

"Hand around for us, 'kay. It's safer than you hanging around with him. He'll crush you if you do the littlest thing wrong." Tex started eating his dinner. It was the same as L.J's; it looked like an inedible mush that had to be eaten or starvation would take course. He seemed to enjoy it though. Probably because of the numerous occasions he had to deal with it.

"Okay. I stay in the same room as you so that shouldn't be hard." L.J smiled then picked up his spoon. Delving it into the potatoes again, it made a squelching noise that made him feel even more awkward than he already did. He slipped the food into his mouth then tried to swallow. The lumps made him feel like he wanted o spit it back out, but he held himself back.

"Good. Just remember that all things ain't easy Fish, why do you think we're here?" He pushed himself off the chair and picked up his dinner. He turned to walk away before being stopped by L.J.

"You're going? Aren't you gonna stay and eat with me?" L.J looked up at him, with the spoon in his hand. Mashed potato dripped from it.

"What, are we on a date or something? Coming Dirt?" He laughed a little then grabbed Dirt by the collar to yank him up. Once he stood, they walked away with their dinner at hand, Dirt's was almost finished of course. Tex turned, his eyes pierced L.J. "And one more thing. This ain't a fuckin' theme park, so don't go expecting no fun rides."

L.J smiled and nodded slightly, trying to make out what Tex meant. Shrugging it off, he dug his spoon back into the food and thought about his entire life after being there. He would probably spend the rest of it in jail, being kiddy-fiddled by strong, but ugly men. He gulped then ate his food. He didn't want his life anymore. Everything was gone. Nothing was left, not even the tiniest sliver of happiness or hope.

The boy Tex had been talking about looked over at him and winked. He then waved. It made L.J feel suddenly sick. He quickly grabbed his tray then got up, placing the food in the bin. He walked out of the hall and wiped his eye. He was crying. Why was he crying? He didn't know.

As he reached his room, he pushed the door open to see Tex standing close to it. He smiled, his eyes telling L.J that he knew something. "Did he wink?"

"Just let me lie down." He pushed by him then flopped onto his little bed on the corner. He leaned against the wall and tried to contain the tears ready to fall. He just sat there, trying to look tougher than he really was. Without saying anything, Tex pulled himself onto the top bunk of his bed then looked over at him.

"You lasted more than the rest, Fish."


End file.
